


A Shade of Green

by Khal



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bottom Harry, Fluff and Smut, Implied Relationships, Jealousy, Kid Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Pre-March 25th, Top Zayn, implied consensual infidelity, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khal/pseuds/Khal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s not rushed. It’s not in some coat closet or in some fancy hotel room on the top floor. The slow sweetness of it surprises Harry just as much as it surprises Zayn but it’s kind of perfect and long overdue.“</i>
</p><p>Or, Harry becomes a dad and he doesn't really know what he's doing. Zayn is there to lend a hand. Harry likes Zayn, Zayn still kinda likes Perrie and things just get really complicated from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dev75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dev75/gifts).



Sitting in a private doctor’s office, surrounded by a nurse, a woman in a suit and two police officers, Harry tries to recall the moments leading up to all of this. Less than 24 hours ago, he was throwing another one of his lavish parties in his barely furnished London home. These days, whenever he throws a party, everyone just seems to know about it. Some of the people who came were his close friends, while others were complete strangers, but overall it was a good group of people.

He had done body shots off some girl he had never met before. That's where the nights usually took him, particularly during breaks from tour. Hooking up with some random chick or getting drunk with Nick in a corner somewhere. It was like he had to take full advantage of the opportunity while he didn’t have any work to do.

He had watched the party get out of hand as usual. Somehow over the years, a two drink minimum rule has been established to get in and you have to be drunk enough to need a driver to get out. He doesn’t remember much after it was over. He never does. It’s possible he hooked up with that girl he did body shots off. It’s also possible he passed out on the couch and let Nick handle the crowd. He can’t remember.

The sun is out now and it’s way too bright in the small room. The pale white walls and the smell of mint and sterile equipment makes him nauseous. The alcohol in his body hasn't quite left his system yet but being surrounded by this random group of people at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning has sobered him plenty.

"Harry, does the name Crystal ring a bell to you?" One of the officers asks. He's got too many wrinkles around his mouth and eyes though Harry doesn’t think he can be much older than thirty.

Out of all the people he has met while in the band and touring the world, he's sure he's crossed the path of a Crystal or two. "Is there a last name you can give me?" He's sure it won’t help because he’s never been good at names but it's worth a shot.

The officer mentions the name Bradley and Harry closes his eyes while he thinks. Through the haziness of the drinks he’s had in the last twelve hours and the ridiculous lack of sleep, he manages to pull a face out of the corner of his memory.

It’s a girl he went to school with though he hasn’t seen her in a while. He’s pretty sure her name was Crystal Bradley, a fit bird who wore flower printed dresses with Doc Martens and had thick black framed glasses--from what he remembers anyway.

The same officer hands him a pocket sized picture and he remembers her face clear as day then. The picture is the smiling face of who he had in mind. They used to be pretty good friends, before fame took over. Crystal Bradley. She had beautiful greenish-brown eyes and naturally tanned skin that reminded him of coffee after milk has been put into it.

“I remember,” he says, putting the picture on the desk in front of him. “Haven’t seen her in some time though. What about her?”

“Were you good friends?” The other officer steps forward to ask.

Harry shrugs and thinks about how close they were, in more ways than one after the band made it big. A smirk creeps across his face when he thinks of when they last saw each other. It had been during one of the breaks from the Take Me Home tour and he came back home for a little while. They’d definitely hooked up. They weren’t drunk, but they were close and he remembers most of it. A familiar face in a crowded bar. She’s exactly the type he falls for: warm eyes and olive skin. It wouldn't be the first time.

Besides the sex, which had been incredible, she was a nice girl and her older sister was friends with his sister. Her parents had seemed kind the few times he had met them. A good looking, middle-class family. Crystal had called him quite a few times after he went back on tour but he was always so busy he never answered a single one. He manages to feel only slightly bad about that now. She had to know it was a one time thing, he thought he’d made that clear. Be that as it may, she was one of the best he has ever had.

He hasn’t talked to her since. It’s been almost two years. He can’t say he’s thought about her at all, really. Maybe he’ll call her and invite her to one of his parties. Or maybe she’s already been to one. There’s always so many faces and he can never remember who came by the next morning.

He’ll definitely call, he decides.

The officers level their gazes at him, shifting back and forth on their feet and he feels like he’s missed something.

“We normally don’t disclose this information to people that aren’t family members but this is a serious matter, Mr. Styles. I’m sorry to inform you that Ms. Bradley passed some time ago-”

Harry’s mind doesn’t shut down by any means, but the rest of what the officer says comes in cloudy waves. He listens as the nurse gives him details of the inoperable endocrine disorder that’s common with young women under the age of thirty-five.

The words sink in slowly and Harry’s first thought is that he should be a lot sadder than he is. It’s not that he’s happy, but it’s the dull ache that comes with a far off loss; he hasn’t thought about her in a while and before that it was only minimal contact at best. There’s a flash of regret there, too, for not keeping in touch with her. He knows it’s wrong but through his surprise, he can only wonder what any of this has to do with him. His mouth doesn’t work fast enough and the others take his silence as a sign of shock.

The woman in the nice pleated suit speaks before he can ask why they’ve contacted him, and she starts off by introducing herself. She's got a surly vibe to her and Harry thinks now would be a good time to listen more closely if her tone of voice is anything to go off of. “Crystal had a child, a little girl, and you were listed as a possible provider.”

Suddenly it’s like the room went quieter than it was before. Now it feels like Harry could hear a person’s breathing machine two floors down if he really wanted to. The silence hangs in the air as he waits desperately for someone to fill it and clue him in. "Me? Like in a will or something." His eyebrows pull together and he searches their faces for some kind of hint.

"Not a will, Mr. Styles. When someone is diagnosed with a condition like this, there is always a need to take extra precaution. You weren't the first on the list Crystal had made. Family members are usually the first ones to be contacted. In this case, her parents are no longer in the picture and her sister is unable to care for another child at the moment.”

He wants to say, _and I am_ , but holds his tongue. He feels drunker than he’s ever been. He’s heard the term ‘Mr. Styles’ more times than he’d care to count this morning and he wants to tell them to call him ‘Harry’ instead but again, nothing cooperates. He ruffles his hair out of his face and back into it again, eyes nervously roaming around the room and the dry ache in the back of his throat. He realizes he hasn’t said anything yet and there are four expectant pairs of eyes staring at him.

“We’re sure this must be a shock.” The woman in the suit smiles slightly. “We are aware of your lifestyle, we know about your career. We have spoken to your management team and we have reason to believe that you will make an excellent caregiver.”

He takes that compliment with a grain of salt because it’s just like Modest to do that; to share or learn about new information and not tell anyone till last minute. He dismisses the thought and thinks about what his mom will make of all this. How she’ll react. He wonders if the boys already know. There must be talk going on already if his management knew.

“We know this is a lot at once. You’re a young man with his whole life ahead of him with no business caring for a child right now.” The woman continues and Harry can’t find it in him to remember her name. “Our greatest concern right now is the well-being of the child and children get lost in the system entirely too often. It’s best if we can place them with a guardian directly related to them in some way.”

It’s all so sudden and Harry doesn’t know the first thing about being a father. He can barely take care of himself. He knows he’s got the reputation of being bab obsessed but all it’s ever been is kissing them on their cheeks and having his picture taken with them. His friends have kids and he likes them well enough, but it doesn’t go much further than a day of babysitting. He doesn’t have to care for them often. He can throw massive parties and get wasted and only think about himself. The biggest responsibility he’s ever had, really, was when he had to care for his class hamster back in Primary school. This is different. A lot different. He’s always wanted to be a dad, he just didn’t think it would happen so soon and definitely not in this way.

He thinks of his own dad then. Even after his parent’s divorce, his dad is still good to him and always there when he’s needed, mainly when Harry was a kid. They drifted as Harry got older but that was to be expected. Of course, Robin came into the picture and he’s been just as good to Harry as a biological dad.

Someone clears their throat and he’s aware he still hasn’t said anything. The woman crosses her arms, “We think you would be a great guardian, but we understand your circumstances. What if we do a trial run? You can try your hand at parenting and we’ll continue to search for a good home for Sage.” She shrugs at her words like she’s said something he hears everyday but it’s the first time he’s heard the kid’s name. Sage. It’s pretty. Different. It’s definitely not a name he would have chosen for his baby girl though. He could probably repeat the name in his head one-hundred times and still not be used to it.

Harry looks at the people standing before him, he can see this possibly biting him in the arse in the futur, especially with the media. They’re going to have a fit, he already knows. At the same time, he knows he’d be a jerk if he didn’t at least try to figure it out. He could do it, it’s not like he’s busy at the moment. By the time OTRA starts, she’ll most likely be long gone.

He looks around at their faces, his hangover settling deep in his head, his eyes getting more bloodshot by the minute. “Can I have some time to think?” He needs to talk to someone or something. He can’t just walk in an office without a baby and leave with one.

“We can give you some time, sure.” The woman in the suit shifts again, crossing her arms. “You should know that the longer you take the more time Sage will spend with us. She’s in a girls’ home at the moment. It’s top notch, don’t get me wrong, but we do want to get her placed as soon as possible.”

 _A real ball buster this one. She might as well add ‘no pressure’ to the end of her statement._ He nods and swallows the dry lump in his throat. Regardless if the kid is in his life or not, he doesn’t want her to be put in that situation.

 

Right away, two days later, he finds himself struggling when the baby finally comes home with him. He doesn't know the first thing about caring for her. He makes that very clear when he doesn’t buy a single thing, mostly because he doesn’t know where to start.

Sage is a gorgeous little girl. Thick curly hair that reminded Harry of his own before he grew it out. She has bright eyes that look like honey and dark eyelashes that remind him of Crystal. She’s a happy baby, the happiest ones he’s ever met, he thinks. He’s thankful that she is oblivious to the situation she’s been put in, but not for much else.

Lou is first to meet her. She gives Harry an earful, telling him all the things the pamphlets haven’t, which is basically everything considering he dumped the pamphlets in the passenger seat of his car and never looked at them again. Babysitting Lux for hours at a time hasn’t really prepared him for this.

He tries to change her diaper and puts her on a towel on the floor instead of his bed, desperate to not mess up his Manito silk sheets.

“It’s not hard. Hold her legs up. Wipe from front to back.” Lou tells him as she continues to unpack countless amounts of toys and clothes that used to be Lux’s. Different shades of pinks and purples.

Harry does as he’s told. This is the third time he’s tried and for some reason or another,  
he still can’t get it right.

Lou shakes her head, “Gently Harry. You’re not washing a car.”

He isn’t good at it, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Even if she does cry a lot and goes through nappies the way Niall goes through food.

He doesn’t bother calling Gemma to tell her about what’s happened, mostly because she can’t be bothered to answer her phone. He’s called his mum but she hasn’t been much help either, telling her youngest that she’s not skipping out on her anniversary cruise across the Mediterranean just because he didn’t wrap it up. Harry blames Robin for Anne’s new found sassiness. She said she’d be home soon but he was on his own for now. Until then, he’ll just have to rely on the people around him.

It doesn't take the media long to run the story; basically saying that Harry got some random groupie pregnant and was now stuck with the kid. Apparently that was the only explanation when children popped up unexpectedly like this. It wasn’t the best headline and naturally the fans were in an uproar. Management was at a loss, not sure if they helped their corporation or ran it into the dumps by having their most sexually ambiguous client get wrapped up in such a scandal. There were mixed reviews overall but either way, Harry’s social media followers were still intact.

\---

There’s a tension in the air Harry can’t seem to shake. He’s anxious without really knowing why. Could be because he hasn’t left the house in days and to make matters worse, he hasn’t been to a proper party since the last time he hosted.

He decides the best way to clear his head is to have one. A baby’s not going to stop him from his routine. He sends out a mass text to anyone who’s in his contact list. People he knows well, acquaintances. No one’s really exempt.

He asks Lou to babysit and she tells him off. Chiding him and telling him this isn’t the time to be thinking about partying. She doesn’t agree with it but she says she’ll come keep an eye on her. If she didn’t, he’s not sure it would have stopped him anyway. He needs this. It’s his thing.

He invites Zayn though there’s the little voice in his head that says he won’t show. Again.

Zayn hasn’t been much of the party type these past few months. Harry makes a point of sending another text, saying that he’ll finally get to meet the baby and if there’s one way to Zayn’s heart, it’s kids.

Zayn’s kept his distance whether he admits it or not, but that’s how he is, especially if they’re on break and expecting a tour soon. He’s with his family and that’s always been important to him. He doesn’t go out of his way to see the boys when that’s all he’ll be doing for weeks at a time.

Things have been different between them. Zayn can’t seem to stand being alone with him for more than a few minutes and whenever Harry texts him, he answers with as little as two words and that’s if he answers at all.

Harry's usually the one doing all the talking, all the typing.

If Zayn doesn’t come, it’s not the end of the world. He’ll have a good time regardless. He won’t let his thoughts drift to the possibility of avoidance or being ignored. There will be tons of other people to worry about and plenty of stuff to do.  
But he still hopes he’ll come.

 

Like all of his other parties, it starts late. Lou tells him that Sage had already fallen asleep before people started arriving. That’s one thing he’s always liked about babies, they take naps like it’s their job.

Everyone makes a point of commenting about it and his go at fatherhood: whether he likes it, if it’s easy. He doesn’t know how to tell them that he’s internally ripping his hair out but most of all, he’s scared and doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing.

Later in the night and a few drinks in, he’s being cheeky with Nick when he feels the tap on his shoulder. "Hey, you came." His words run together when he turns to see Zayn standing behind him. Harry's not drunk. Not yet, at least. Drunk Harry can barely form sentences and he’s doing an ace job so far of keeping his words coherent if not slightly slurred.

As always, Zayn kind of takes his breath away. His beard has come in fuller since Harry saw him last and for some reason, that’s what Harry notices first. His eyes travel up to the high arcs of his cheekbones and his hazel eyes framed by impossibly perfect eyelashes. His hair is shaved tight on the sides and longer on top, long enough for him to pull it in a top knot that only accentuates his jawline. When Harry’s eyes finally drift lower, he notices the thin curve of Zayn’s hips and Harry finds himself sucking in a breath just to keep blood flowing.

 

The entire night, he tries to stick to Zayn especially since he made the effort to finally show up. Everyone else is just as happy to have him around, though. Louis beats him to the punch and tows Zayn with him everywhere. Harry dismisses the possibility of being avoided. After all, if Zayn didn’t want to see him, he wouldn’t have come in the first place.

He catches a break when Zayn comes wandering into the kitchen alone, all cool and sleek, like those were genetic traits he was born with. Harry jumps at the opportunity to be with him one on one. Asking if he wants another drink and if he’s been enjoying his time off. Anything to keep Zayn next to him.

He tries to catch Zayn up on what he’s missed since the end of their last tour. Shows him the apron he got and explains how he got the wrong one and how he wanted the x-rated version of the ‘Kiss the Cook’ one he had. The first of many hints he dropped throughout the night.

He talks about the remodeling of his kitchen and the Italian Marble he chose for the island. Talks about the writing he’s been doing for them and other artists.

Zayn just listens as Harry talks. He’s a good listener. Harry is too, when the time comes to it.

But then Zayn’s yawning and checking his watch. “So where is she?”

\---

“She kinda looks like you Harry.”

Harry laughs at that. He had only slept with Crystal that one time. The only thing the baby really had of his was the hair and dimples. She favored her mum more than anything. The raven black hair, the sun-kissed skin; it reminds him of Zayn. Harry’s eyes are fond as he admires Zayn’s softness. He’s good with kids, always has been.

He listens when Zayn tells him he should think about making the room more “baby appropriate.” All he has so far is a crib next to the guest bed. The surrounding décor is fit for a man in his fifties.

“Maybe we can go together sometime.” Harry says with a bit too much excitement. He has to remind himself to tone it down. Not to seem so desperate. Even if he kind of is.

Zayn gives him a strange look and then nods slightly. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Tomorrow is good for me.” Harry smiles, oblivious to Zayn’s hesitation. He’s buzzing at the prospect of getting to hang out with him. Zayn nods again at nothing in particular, Harry thinks. Maybe he’s excited too or maybe it’s to the bass from downstairs vibrating under their feet.

They leave Sage to sleep and go back to the party still in full swing. Harry’s favorite tune plays. The one about shutting up and dancing. The drinks are working in his favor and he’s feeling loose. He drags Zayn to a secluded corner in the dim living room and tries to get him to dance, but Zayn doesn’t dance for anyone.

Zayn doesn’t dance even though he probably could while Harry loves to dance but cannot keep a rhythm to his body. He’s mostly hair flips and hip rolling, and that’s what he does now.

He dances up behind Zayn, half-hard in his pants as he grinds his hips forward against Zayn’s arse. Zayn must not be as drunk as Harry had thought or he’s at least sober enough to mumble, “Stop it.” When Harry rolls his crotch forward again but he doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

Harry stops long enough to lean forward and get a look at Zayn’s vaguely annoyed face. It’s the same expression he’s seen too many times before. “Make me.” He says with a lip bite and a smirk that he knows is tempting.

And with that, two simple words, the atmosphere in the room changes.

Zayn doesn’t drift too far the rest of the night; he sticks to Harry as best as he can. Following Harry around when he plays host and has to talk to everyone he sees, lingering a hand down his back every so often. Harry can feel him hooking a finger in the loop of his belt and tugging. It’s all too much and it’s like the party can’t be over quick enough. Harry’s itching to get everyone out. He starts making up excuses about the lack of beer and food and the possibilities of police showing up any minute. It’s slow, and it takes over an hour to get everyone completely out but it’s worth it in the end, it always is.

“Have you done this lately?” Zayn asks when they’re alone in Harry’s bedroom and he’s sitting in a chair with Harry on his knees between his legs. Harry knows what he’s getting at. If _he_ was the last person he’s done it with.

They've made a habit of it. Ever since that game they all played and someone dared Harry to suck himself off. He couldn't do it but he almost did and that was good enough for Zayn. Harry saw it in the way that he looked at him. They’ve kind of fallen off over the years, not on purpose…something that just happens when you get older, get wiser. One of you gets a girlfriend. Then said person gets engaged.

It got bad when Perrie caught them when she thought it would be a good idea to surprise Zayn; something she had never done before. They weren’t doing much, just kissing and rutting against each other in Zayn’s hotel room. She gained some color that day. That was probably the least pale she had ever been. She just left the room like she didn’t see a thing; didn’t scream, or yell, or even tell anyone. She hadn’t mentioned it at all.  
Zayn proposed to her three weeks after. That was last year. Harry and Zayn tried to make it work, heated make out sessions and heavy touching in between set changes but things were understandably different, especially with a ring on someone’s finger.

“Mhmm,” Harry muffles out with hollowed cheeks and bright eyes as he looks up.

Zayn breathes, his fingers carding through Harry’s hair. “With who?” His knuckles brush the side of Harry’s face gently.

Harry continues to suck but he knows Zayn is waiting for an answer. It’s like they’re starting back from where they’ve left off, like their routine never stopped. They get into it more, with months of pent up sexual frustration towards each other egging them on.

Harry knows he’s good at this; he knows everyone can tell too with his big mouth and pink smile. Maybe it’s where the media scrutiny comes from, the confidence in his smile. The fact he knows he can take someone apart with only his mouth, leave them shaking; he uses that to his advantage.

Zayn tilts his head back and his eyes squeeze shut when Harry flicks his tongue the way he does. His fingers twist in Harry’s hair and the gentle pull makes him groan around his cock. Harry knows Zayn’s body just as well as his own. He can feel the muscles of his abdomen tightening and he knows he’s getting close. Harry pulls him out then and the sudden loss makes Zayn’s eyes snap open and he looks like a kid who just witnessed his ice cream fall on the floor.

Harry bites his lip till it’s white, jerking Zayn off with slow, strong, strokes of his hand. He taps it on his lips, over and over again, his eyes never leaving Zayn’s. He knows just what to do to get him going. He knows the sight of this alone can be enough to get him off but Zayn likes to hold back and to see how far he can take it. He likes to see just how far things can go.

“Ben,” Harry says suddenly before swallowing Zayn whole again. He can hear him ask ‘What,’ prompting Harry to pull off and repeat himself.

“Ben,” he answers, licking the underside of Zayn’s shaft with the broad side of his tongue.

Before he can wrap his lips around him again, Zayn is pulling him up by his hair, a sloppy slick pop as they disconnect. Harry notices the frown lines across Zayn’s scientifically perfect face as he struggles to get to his feet. Before he can say anything about it, Zayn is dragging him towards the bed.

Harry can’t help but smile because he knows this part well; it’s just like old times.  
Zayn taking over and being aggressive while he’s easy and compliant. He settles just near the edge, knees tucked underneath him with his shoulders pressed down to the sheets. Harry presses his cheek to the soft fabric, still grinning because he fucking loves this part. He doesn’t have to look to know Zayn is settling on the floor behind him. He feels when Zayn kisses the back of his thighs, the light nipping of his lips and teeth, the dragging of his tongue.

Harry pushes back on him, hoping to be encouraging and to his liking, Zayn takes the bait, licking higher, probing at Harry's hole. Harry grabs at the sheets as he grinds his hips back in uneven circles. Zayn has his hands on his waist to keep him still, his tongue still working in tight circles and longer licks. Harry wiggles more, makes Zayn’s tongue slip just to get the reaction he wants. It works when he feels a flat hand against his arse, the leftover sting more than welcome. The jolt makes Harry's toes curl and Zayn gives him another along with a muffled warning to keep still.

The coarse roughness of Zayn’s beard heightens each sensation of his tongue, one lick after another. Harry tries to focus on the feeling through each small gasp and whine that pulls from his own lips. He once thought that Zayn's tongue was hand sculpted by god himself and the thought comes again as tears begin to prick his eyes; overwhelmed by Zayn’s hands keeping him still and his relentless tongue work. The bedroom is noisy with the sounds of sucking and soft moans. Harry gets louder as Zayn presses in deeper, the movement making Harry’s cock twitch in anticipation. Zayn’s tried it all and just like Harry knows how to suck him, Zayn knows exactly how to twist, suck and thrust his tongue to get the best sounds from Harry.

Harry’s cries fall on deaf ears with streaks of tears running over his cheeks and under his chin. Zayn Malik needs to be given a rimming award. So good he can make Harry Styles fucking cry.

Harry reaches down to fist himself and his groans start to become labored and thick. Like clockwork, Zayn stops abruptly and tugs back on Harry’s hips. The movement brings Harry down from wherever he was headed and he looks over his shoulder. He can’t even find the strength to ask but he makes a whining sound deep in his throat and Zayn understands exactly what he’s saying because he’s seen this all before.

“Ever done anything else with him?” Zayn asks.

Harry shakes his head and closes his eyes to savor this moment. Ben was honestly just a drunken mistake. He will only admit to himself that most of the guys he screws around with tend to look a lot like Zayn, but he’s known for a while that nothing is better than the original.

Zayn nips at Harry’s left cheek with his teeth before standing and giving it a good smack. “Have a condom on you?” Harry’s head hangs as he shakes it. He knew he was out and he knew he should have gotten some since he was going to be home for break. He kind of hates himself for forgetting. His cock kind of hates him right then too.

Maybe this is a sign, maybe it’s for the best. That they shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. A sign that this has gone too far already and he can stop right now. He has sudden flashes of the realization that Zayn is engaged and due to be married. Perrie who is so nice and who has had Zayn wrapped around her finger since day one. She doesn’t deserve to be cheated on.

Before the thought of rings and weddings can fully settle, he knows he can’t make himself stop, condom or not. When it comes to Zayn he never can. He pushes his hips back against Zayn, insistently, panting like some feral animal. “Please, Zayn,” he begs, his raspy voice low and heavier than usual. He's got to be good and make Zayn want more; show him what he’s been missing.

He peeks over his shoulder again just in time to see Zayn roll his eyes. Harry knows just what he looks like, hands and knees with Zayn’s spit all over him and red arse cheeks, begging with wide green eyes and pouty plush lips. Harry knows that in this moment, Zayn won’t be able to fathom the word _no_. Because Zayn wants it just as bad, Harry can see it in the flush of his cheeks and he can hear it in his broken breathing.

Zayn pulls away and checks the pocket of his trousers. Harry remembers that he used to have a habit of keeping condoms in places like his pocket or in his wallet. Harry knows that it’s a habit he hasn’t shaken when Zayn flips open his wallet to check inside.

He almost makes fun of him for tucking away spare condoms even now when he’s supposed to only be having sex with one person and hardly goes out at all. He can’t find it in himself to joke when Zayn turns around empty handed. Harry flops over onto his back on the bed, wiggling his hips and stroking himself, dropping his head as he whines high in his throat. Normally Zayn would tell him off for touching himself but for Harry, it's all overwhelming; he knows he’s going to get exactly what he wants eventually.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn bolts out of the room and downstairs in search of his jacket and when he’s spot it, he’s happy to find a condom in the inside pocket. His phone falls out right along with the foil packet. He picks it up with a slight amount of hope that maybe Perrie has texted him. Because maybe a text from his fiancé would be enough to reel him back to reality. When he finds she hasn’t said a thing, as per usual, he shoves the phone back in the pocket without another thought.

He glances down at the condom in his hand and hopes it’s not expired. It’s one of those funny ones he used to collect just for the art on the wrapper. Niall used to love to read them and they spent a whole summer trying to collect them all. This wrapper has ‘ONE Huge’ typed on it and then a picture of a rooster. It’s the kind of joke Harry would appreciate.

_Harry_. The reason he’s even downstairs in the first place. Zayn races back up the carpeted stairs to the hallway leading to Harry’s room. He can hear faint cries coming out of the room Sage is in and he stops. It’s got to be close to two in the morning by now but he knows babies rarely sleep through the night. He doesn’t go in to check on her, that’s not his responsibility. Plus, he’s got nothing but his socks and shirt on.

When he gets back to the master bedroom, Harry is sitting on the bed with his hair tied back and his lips shiny. He looks like a wet dream except this wet dream version of him has a look of impatience on his pouty lips. “C’mon. I’m ready.”

“The baby is up. She might be hungry.” Zayn tells him. He wants to be inside of Harry just as badly as Harry wants him to be, but he’s not going to be able to enjoy a second of it if there’s a baby crying in the background.

“So, she’ll cry herself back to sleep. She does it all the time.” Harry begins stroking himself like he’s actually planning to let Zayn fuck him instead of getting the baby.

He raises his eyebrow, a look that Harry will know means, _don’t pull that shit with me._ Harry rolls his eyes and starts down the hall clad in only his underwear.

Zayn lays back against the cool pillows and the soft sheets as he listens to the dull sound of the baby crying. That’s a thing about kids, they can sleep like logs but when they cry they hit higher pitches than he ever has.

As he lays there, his mind wanders around the idea of Harry taking care of a baby. He wonders if Harry knows enough to handle it. He can still remember the rules his mom taught him when he was young and had to take care of his sisters. He can hear her voice in his head even now; _If her nappy is a mess, change her. If she’s hungry, feed her. Two tablespoons of formula. Heat her milk during morning and evening feedings. Test the temperature on the back of your hand. Always talk to her. Talking is important. Don’t forget to burp her. Pray she’ll go back to sleep when you’re done. Make sure she sleeps on her back. **Babies on their back, always.**_

Sage’s cries finally cut off and are replaced with the low tones of Harry’s voice one room over. Zayn’s out like a light before Harry even gets back.

 

In the morning, Zayn is the first to open his eyes, a rare situation in and of itself. It’s mainly due to the fact that it's hot. Way too hot. Harry is wrapped around him like a vine, his head on Zayn's chest with arms and legs clinging around Zayn's body. There are curls in his face and a slight firmness where Harry is pressed against his thigh. He decides to ignore it as he focuses on the other reason why he's awake. He strokes his hand down the length of Harry's back, "Baby's up, Haz."

He doesn't budge so Zayn says it a little louder. He gets movement and a disapproving groan this time. "Baby." Harry smiles in his sleep and mumbles approvingly. "No. Sage, Haz. She's crying."

After a long few seconds of mumbling Zayn can’t quite make out, Harry rolls out of bed, stumbling out of the room with his eyes still closed.

Zayn looks at the clock on the nightstand and jolts when he sees it’s already near ten. He hops out of the bed and dresses quickly. He knows Perrie will be home by now and wondering where he is. He’s sure his phone will probably say something different.

He hears Harry in the kitchen as he picks up his jacket from the entryway. He checks his messages and sure enough, there are none. Not even a stupid notification from some useless thing in his email.

He knows to get out the front door, he’s got to be quiet otherwise Harry will try to make him stay and he can’t afford to do that right now. He crosses the foyer silently and makes it to the door, but there’s a slight clicking of the doorknob and a creak from the rusty hinges when it opens. He closes his eyes and mentally curses himself.

"Leavin’ already?" Zayn hears the padding of bare feet and out of the kitchen comes Harry, baby in tow, looking completely knackered. His hair's a mess and his eyes are still puffy from just waking up. In spite of it all, Zayn can’t help but think he looks good.

Zayn rubs at the scruff bordering his neck out of nervous habit. "Yeah, gotta get back." He watches Harry bite his lip and he tries desperately not to think about putting his own mouth on him. Wanting to be the one to bite it instead.

"You'll be back later though?" Harry asks. It’s hopeful, and almost pleading. He watches as Harry’s cheeks go pink from the candid question but before he can answer, Harry is talking again. "You know, because you said you'd help me buy some stuff for Drooly here. Last night, remember?"

Zayn smiles to himself, thinking of the nicknames Harry must have surpassed to come up with that given his circumstances. Drooly was a lot more affectionate than Googly Eyes or Smelly: the ones he had given to his sisters when they were young.

He knows he shouldn't come back. He should stay far away from Harry and the baby. He shouldn’t have come to the party at all. Despite the logic of it all, though, he wants to be around just as much as Harry seemingly wants him to. And he did promise to go check out furniture and buy diapers; he likes to keep his promises. He nods in agreement and watches the way Harry relaxes. He throws, his jacket over his shoulder with no effort at all but he knows it will leave Harry wondering how he did it. Harry told him once, when they were up late and in some nameless city, that Zayn puts off an aura of effortlessly cool. Zayn had choked on his drink and said it was really more of an accident than intentional.

"Bye, cutie." Zayn coos at the smiling baby perched on Harry’s hip. She smiles back at him, a toothless grin. She’s going to be a heartbreaker when she gets older, he can already tell. She’ll have lads lined up around the corner just to get her to smile like that. It makes Zayn a little uneasy; he suddenly gets the feeling he should be protective of her, protect her from all the smelly little boys with yellow pit stains and dirt under their nails. "I'll be back around five,” he states, focusing back on Harry.

 

He’s always known how much Harry loves shopping. He just didn’t expect him to be so excited about shopping for baby stuff. Zayn wears a jumper and shorts while Harry is fitted head to toe in YSL, strutting down the halls of Babies R’ Us like it’s a catwalk. Then again, Harry treats everything like a runway show.

Sage is strapped to Harry’s front like a schoolbag as they go through the aisles. Zayn has to scold Harry the entire time as he picks up everything he sees without considering the fact that she'll grow out of it within a month or so. He keeps taking things out of Harry’s hands and setting them back on the shelf as Harry pouts. He knows he’s got it bad when he’s mentally kicking himself about being turned on by Harry’s pouty lips in the middle of a baby store.

Every so often, he feels Harry grabbing at his hand. It’s not in an overly affectionate way; just to drag him to certain sections, like the room display with yellow and brown banana decorations printed all over. Zayn has to kindly pull back each time he does it. It's not that he doesn't like the attention, hell it's the only intimacy he ever gets since Perrie's been busy, but it’s not right. He loves Perrie, despite his better judgement. Regardless of what almost happened the night before.

Somehow Harry still ends up buying half of the store and they struggle to pack it all in the back of his Range Rover. Zayn spends the better part of his day setting up the baby’s room and is convinced he’s nearly dead by the end of it. Harry has everything he could possibly need and the décor is set for a growing princess.

Harry wasn’t much help when Zayn was building the changing table or assembling the rocking chair that Harry thought he absolutely had to have. However, he does make Zayn a sandwich which he gladly accepts after Sage’s been put down for a nap on her new bedding. He eats it on Harry’s balcony, the day too beautiful not to enjoy to it’s full extent. Harry joins him, peeling an orange and talking aimlessly about the house and asks Zayn about his family. The conversation comes naturally to them. It always has.

Zayn keeps waiting for his phone to buzz. Keeps waiting for a text or a call from _her._ It’s to be expected considering he didn’t come home last night but then again, she wasn’t there when he got back this morning either. It’s safe to assume she wasn’t there at all anyway. Wouldn’t be the first time, probably would'nt be the last.

Zayn grabs a cigarette at the thought. Just to calm his nerves.

"You should really quit smoking, you know." Harry states indignantly.

Zayn knows, of course he knows. He’s been trying to stop for awhile, he just hasn’t been successful at it. He hates those commercials about being above the influence. He thinks they’re stupid, but they get to him all the same. He doesn’t want to lose his teeth or have a hole in his neck. At the same time, the calming buzz a cigarette brings him is kind of irreplaceable.

"Doesn’t Perrie mind?" Harry asks after Zayn takes a drag from the end. Zayn knows he’s trying to push his buttons; Harry already knows that Perrie hates it, something they both have in common.

Zayn shrugs but the cigarette falls as he does, landing on his thigh. He shoots up from his chair and pats himself clear.

Harry’s up just as fast to help. Soothing the potential burn mark with a piece of ice from his own drink. It would be a strange position to anyone walking by.

"Hm. Are you saying I care about your well-being more than your fiancé does?” He’s playing dirty bringing up Perrie when he knows things aren’t always perfect between them. Zayn’s looking at him and Harry’s cheeks heat under his gaze. It gets the hair on the back of his neck standing and he can’t focus. Harry likes to test him. Likes to push. Sometimes Harry takes it a bit too far.

\---

The headboard rattles against the wall as Zayn thrusts into him, still unsure how they got from the balcony to falling into bed together. Then again, that’s how it always goes for them.

Zayn wonders how Sage hasn’t woken up yet with the banging intermixing with low groans and higher moans as Harry thrashes under him. Zayn’s breathless and his hair is matted with sweat. “Have you done this with Ben?” There’s a hint of teasing in the way he says it though he secretly fears the answer.

Harry huffs out as his eyes rolling back in his head. “No.”

The visual is too much and Zayn’s stomach muscles burn when he comes inside Harry with his palms against his chest, covering the swallows.

“Have you done this since--” Harry stops asking before he finishes and Zayn’s sure it’s because he doesn’t want to hear an answer either. Zayn doesn’t push him to finish asking. The truth is that he hasn’t been with any other guys or girls, except Perrie and the few times they’ve done it. It’s always been Harry. No one else has been enough to spark his interest.

Harry shudders when he reaches down to pull himself off but Zayn smacks his hand away before he can even get there, doing it himself. He strokes Harry slowly, twisting his wrist every once in a while just to make Harry squirm.

“I’m close Z,” he croaks softly, clawing at the sheets on his sides, biting at his bottom lip until it turns a shade of deep pink.

“Come on, babe. Do it.” Zayn rasps against the shell of his ear, smiling when Harry’s hips buck up and he spills up over his fist and across his stomach. “There we go,” he whispers moving his face back to match with Harry’s. He kisses him slowly, both of them trying to catch their breath.

It’s quiet for a moment; just their hands aimlessly running over each other until Harry breaks the silence. “Zayn.”

“What?” He has his face pressed to Harry’s neck but he doesn’t look up.

“Let’s go again.”

Zayn can hear the grin in his voice. He wants to compromise on a nap first but then Harry smacks his arse and all bets are off.

Zayn flips Harry onto his stomach and presses two fingers inside where he’s already stretched from round one. Harry curls the sheets in his fists from the over-sensitivity, but he keens up when Zayn strokes his prostate.

“Get in me, already,” Harry groans when Zayn starts fucking into him with just his fingers.

“Bit impatient aren’t you?” Zayn laughs against his shoulder but slicks himself up to slide inside anyway. He pushes Harry’s shoulders down as he pushes inside. Harry’s jaw drops open in a silent scream and Zayn tugs on the back of his hair.

His screams turn into wails that grow louder with each thrust of Zayn’s hips. The harder Zayn goes, the thicker Harry’s voice gets. The sweetest sounds slip out of his mouth, sounds Zayn won’t forget anytime soon. All so lovely coming from Harry’s lips.

“You good?” Zayn asks without stopping, his hips pounding relentlessly now. He still knows what Harry likes most, what it takes to make him come so hard his vision blurs.

Harry hums out his response, moaning as Zayn hits his prostate over and over again. It’s explosive the way it always is, fast moving and hard.

“Flip over for me,” Zayn says when he starts to slow down. Harry groans but this is what Zayn wants. He likes to get Harry suspended over the edge of an orgasm and bring him back down. Plus Harry's expressions are always gold; he makes the perfect faces for someone who has a dick thrusting in and out of them at rapid speed.

Harry rolls to his back and Zayn pushes back inside of him. He looks down at Harry’s face, utterly wrecked; red and splotchy, wet eyes and bright lips. It’s the most vulnerable Zayn has ever seen him. The thought makes his cheeks go crimson when he realizes it’s all because of him. “What do you want?” He asks running a thumb over Harry’s lower lip. It’s soft and pink like the rest of him and Zayn should probably kiss them soon if he knows what’s good for him.

“Mm. Want you,” Harry says, not opening his eyes and sounding completely ruined.

“You have me, Haz.” Zayn smirks.

“I want more.” Harry lets out as Zayn presses into him in a steadying rhythm. “All of you. I dont want to share anymore."

Zayn stops at his words and looks down at him.

He doesn’t want to be shared either. But this is the kind of thing he doesn’t want to hear with his own wedding around the corner. It’s too late. For him and Harry in a sense. His own frustration gets the better of him then and he leans forward to grab the headboard above Harry’s head and thrusts harder without warning, "You can't be faithful, Harry."

Harry yells out, his legs wrapping tightly around Zayn’s waist, "Yes I can." He goes for indignant but with no luck, not in this state.

Zayn can go back and forth with him but it won’t do any good. He knows Harry, he knows the media portrayals aren’t far off from the truth.

"For you, I would. I could be so good for you,” Harry whispers. Zayn bites the inside of his cheek and keeps thrusting his hips. He can’t do this right now.

Harry is slick with sweat, precome blurting between their stomachs. He’s babbling nonsense up at Zayn and Zayn can’t find one thing he doesn’t like about him. Surpassing the sex and the intoxicating high that comes with it afterwards, Harry is the epitome of beauty, in every meaning of the word and when he’s whispering sweet stuff like this, about being the one and staying faithful to Zayn, it’s a lot to take in.

Harry comes again on a low growl, most of it painting his own stomach and chest again. Zayn bites his neck as he follows suit, molding his body onto Harry’s in the aftershocks. Harry grabs him quickly, wraps him in his arms as if he’s scared he’ll float away.

Zayn kisses Harry’s collarbone and up his neck in a line to his lips. He knows what he wants and Harry’s mouth is so pretty and inviting, Zayn would kick his own ass if he didn’t kiss him right now. It’s not rushed. It’s not in some coat closet or in some fancy hotel room on the top floor. The slow sweetness of it surprises Harry just as much as it surprises Zayn but it’s kind of perfect and long overdue because there’s a part of Zayn that wants all of Harry too, even if he shouldn’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Zayn unexpectedly comes to visit a few days later and Harry doesn't quite understand why when he pulls open the front door to see him standing there. The baby’s room is already done and they don’t have anything planned. Harry has a fleeting thought that maybe Zayn is here just to see him. It's definitely a welcoming idea that gets his nerves churning and his heart fluttering. But then Zayn only greets him for a mere few seconds before he goes right for Sage who is playing in the middle of the front room.

Harry feels another pang of jealousy, the ones he should really be getting used to by now. This baby Zayn has known for less than a week, gets more attention than he has given him in the last year.

That's how it is for the rest of the day; Zayn giving the little one all of his attention and Harry vying for it; dropping not so subtle hints every chance he gets: Harry’s lingering eyes on Zayn’s lips, the flirty jokes he never fails to make, the excessive touching.

It's just after sunset that Zayn tires himself and the baby out. Both fall fast asleep on the couch and Harry is left to clean the mess they've made, wiping baby food off of the Persian area rug he got as a gift.

A text comes in from Nick telling him about a party that’s only twenty minutes away. Without a second thought, he gives one look to the two sleeping bodies on the couch and calls a car to come pick him up. He deserves a break; he deserves to hang out with people who have already learned to walk and don’t throw up their food on Persian rugs.

When he comes back after midnight, he smells of vodka and smoke and he hardly notices the empty sofa. He’s in the kitchen contemplating pouring himself one more drink when he hears stomping feet coming his way.

He settles on champagne when he hears, “What the fuck Harry?”

Zayn storms in, hair up and eyes a tired shade of red. His accent thick the way it gets when he’s mad.

Harry smiles loosely for more reasons than one. Zayn's still here and wearing one of his jumpers. He looks fresh like he took a shower, perhaps planning to stay another night. Before Harry can even suggest it, Zayn’s shouting at him.

"You need to grow up Haz! You can’t just leave like that." His nose flares and he’s shaking his head as he yells.

Immediately, Harry’s taken back, not completely sure why he's being yelled at this early in the morning. He’s seen Zayn angry before but not like this. Zayn always has a good reason to blow up and when he does, his words lash like knives.

“Everything isn’t just about you anymore, Harry. You have a baby. You have responsibilities."

He should've known it was about her. He handles his drink with ease and pushes his way into the living room, Zayn still barking in his ear. "All you have to do, is feed her, clean her, make her happy. It's not hard. You can’t just walk out and leave her like that!"

He feels like he's a kid again and he's being told off by his school headmaster, or worse, his mum. His head hangs low in embarrassment more than shame. Now even Zayn thinks he’s incapable of raising a child. “I’m trying, Zayn. And I don’t see what the big deal is. You were here with her!" He isn’t one for confrontation, he doesn’t like the negative energy. His tone of voice would give anyone the impression that he doesn’t care.

“That's your fucking problem! Why is everything a joke with you?”

“I was gone for like a minute,” Harry says stubbornly. He can see the frustration on Zayn’s face but he’s tired and he wants nothing more than to crawl into his own bed. And if Zayn is going to be an asshole, then he isn’t going to be invited.

“You’re such a lost cause Harry. You shouldn’t be allowed children.”

And if he didn't feel incompetent before, he does now. He knows he wants kids someday, but when he’s ready. He wasn’t ready for Sage and he doesn’t know how many more times he can tell everyone, tell Zayn, that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Suddenly there are tears trying to force themselves from his eyes and he has a lump in his throat. “Fuck you, Zayn. I’m trying my best.” That part was true, at least. He didn’t ask to be handed a kid months before a world tour. He didn’t hope for any of this. He’s scared shitless if he’s being honest but he is trying.

“Are you? Because it seems like you’re just coming up with one excuse after the next. Even if you weren’t ready for a baby, she’s your responsibility now. So try harder.”

The next thing Harry knows, the front door is slamming and Zayn is gone.

His head is ringing in the silence left after Zayn leaves. It’s not like he left the kid to fend for herself; someone was with her. He could have asked Zayn to watch her instead of just leaving; woke him up and told him he was going to a party. Maybe he should have texted just to check in.

He makes his way upstairs to Sage’s room. She’s tucked into her crib with the mobile spinning over her head. Maybe Zayn is right about him making too many excuses. Sage isn’t the problem. Sure, she wakes him up before the sun even rises, but she already loves him unconditionally; she doesn’t know any better. As he heads to bed, the only thing he can think is that he needs to stop making excuses and take Zayn’s advice. He needs to change his priorities, for Sage’s benefit mostly.

\---

Harry writes his music from home over the next few days. It's where he can concentrate best and he can be with Sage without bugging Lou. He has his coffee and his guitar in his lap as he sits on the floor in the middle of the living room; favorite brown notebook and a pencil in hand.

Sage is off in her corner and in Harry's line of sight, playing with the blocks Louis nicked from one of his siblings. He hears her giggling every once in a while and absently wonders how a baby can have that much fun with a couple hunks of wood.

He sets his notebook down and grabs his phone to play a song, having the decency to crack a smile when Sage crawls over towards him. She slaps his notebook and starts drumming with his pens. She's got a lot of personality. Give her a few more years and Harry can see her having his sense of humor.

He gets up and hooks his phone to the speaker and starts dancing around the room. Bon Jovi’s second album starts up and he dances like he does on stage, which is to say with no rhythm and sporadic hip shaking and arm flailing.

He notices something moving in his peripheral vision. He glances over to see Sage is bouncing and smiling. She doesn’t seem to have any rhythm either but she does have the excuse of being a baby. "You like that, huh? You like Bon Jovi?"

She bursts into a fit of giggles when he sticks his tongue out and she’s crawling her way back to him. She plops down right in front of his boots. “If you like that, wait till you hear this."

He shuffles through the music on his phone, trying to find a good song for her. He finally settles and presses play on a Rolling Stones track but when he looks up, he sees the mess that's been made. His coffee is tipped over and Sage is splashing in it. He's thankful that his notebook was nowhere near her. He’s also thankful he had given up on hot coffee well into the new year.

Zayn and Lou are in his head now. Both telling him to stay calm and to be patient. He listens to Zayn’s voice more, even though they're both chanting the same thing. He picks Sage up and makes his way to the bathroom, filling up the white and yellow baby tub that’s no deeper than the rice cooker his mom used to have. He tests the bath water like Lou taught him and sits on the toilet seat as he watches her play. He doesn't need anyone to tell him to not leave the bathroom, he's not that incompetent..

Sage splashes and plays as Harry looks for more music off his phone that he thinks she’ll like. Without realizing it, he's made a playlist for her, consisting of mostly 80s pop.

Sage keeps trying to hand him her toys while she's in the bath. After refusing so many times, Harry finds himself taking them and saying, "thank you" instead. He thinks she's got his smile. Obviously the dimples help his theory, but the way her lips curl before a toothless laugh is what stands out the most. Her irises have a green tint he hasn't noticed until now that almost make them look hazel.

She hands him more blocks and he takes them with false surprise each time just to make her laugh. When she runs out he hands them back to her one by one.

\---

His hands are shaking as he holds Sage against him, his mind racing around what to do or who to call. He dials Lou first but the call goes straight to voicemail. He calls Caroline next but it rings on and on without an answer and he briefly remembers her saying something about celebrating her anniversary. This wasn’t supposed to happen; he was supposed to be learning how to take care of a baby. He thought he was getting good at this.

He settles on Louis next; he must have been through this before.

"Hello?" Louis’ voice is groggy and thick when he answers. It's almost two in the afternoon but knowing Louis, he must've gone out last night.

Harry doesn’t take the time to breathe let alone say ‘Hello’. “The baby just fell down the stairs and she’s crying and I think there’s a bump coming in on her head. What do I do? What am I supposed to do? Louis, help me.” The words come out all at once and jumbled together only to be cut off by Louis’ demandingly sharp tone across the line.

"Woah. Harold. One thing at a time. What's happened?"

Harry takes a deep breath but it doesn't do much for his pronunciation. "The baby fell down a few stairs, she's crying her head off and she is turning red. Do you think she needs to go to hospital?" His words catch in his throat.

He’s not even sure if Louis is still on the other end until he hears a sigh, "Haz, she's fine. She just needs to cry off the pain."

After a beat, Harry groans in anger. "Oh, what do you know!?" He scolds before hanging up, realizing the mistake he’s made. Louis can't bother to take a shower everyday, much less give him advice for when a child is hurt.

Harry grabs the closest jacket he can find and the baby bag before he rushes out the front door. He drives as carefully and as quickly as he can with a screaming baby in the back seat. He continues to blindly call everyone in his contact list, hoping that someone will pick up.

 

He hears shoes pounding the linoleum and he lifts his head to see Zayn barreling his way. "Hey." Zayn puffs out breathlessly, his eyes wide. His hair sticking up in odd directions and he looks as panicked as Harry feels. "What’s happened?"

Harry stands from his seat in the holding room and frantically tries to explain, eyes wet. "We were playing. She was crawling around and everything was fine. Next thing I know, she's at the bottom of the stairs."

Zayn doesn’t say anything as he steps closer. Harry doesn’t even notice he’s shivering until Zayn puts his arms around him and rubs his back. The closeness is comforting and his shoulders relax a bit. Harry doesn't know how long they stayed like that, wrapped in each others arms, but they pull apart when there’s a sound of a voice being cleared.

The doctor is standing there when they turn around with Harry’s giggling baby in hand. "Sage, is fine. No bruising. No bump. She couldn't have gone higher than the fourth step."

She hands the baby over and Harry takes her with an exhale, coddling her right up against his chest. Zayn isn't far behind in sentiment, ruffling the baby's hair, going so far as to kiss the back of her head. "Gave us quite the scare babe,” he coos softly. “Trying to climb stairs but can’t even walk yet.” His hand still glued to Harry’s lower back.

Another nurse comes up to tell them both what to watch for with a new baby in the house and it takes a second for Harry to figure out she thinks he and Zayn are together. He doesn’t say anything. He just takes her advice gratefully, thankful that the situation wasn't a lot worse. The fear of child services coming for him finally passing.

He gets Sage’s bag over his shoulder and holds her close as he leaves the hospital, Zayn trailing behind him. "Listen, I'm really sorry I called. No one else answered and I didn't-"

"It's alright. I'm glad you did," Zayn interrupts, trying to keep up. Harry can hear the nervous chuckle he makes.

At the car, Harry buckles the baby into her seat, double checking the strap as if it will snap. He closes the back door and turns to face Zayn, meeting his eyes full on. He takes a minute to collect his thoughts, trying to find the right words to say. "I’m sorry about the way I acted before. And about the stuff I did. You were right about me making excuses and all.” He feels the need to explain, pushing his hair out of his face.

"I get that it’s hard and I know you’re doing your best. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you when you’re still trying to figure it all out.”

“It’s just really scary, you know?” Harry tells him, staring down at his boots. It’s been a tough ride so far but he’s standing his ground. He shakes his head and rubs at his face. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly for being there for me and stuff. It means a lot.” Zayn didn’t have to be there. Didn’t have to do all the things he did.

Zayn smirks, “Any excuse to boss you around, I’ll take it.”

Before Harry can say anything else, Zayn is leaning forward with his eyes on Harry’s lips. He puts a hand on his neck when he kisses him, trailing his tongue against Harry’s lips until he opens his mouth to him.

Harry swallows the soft sounds he makes.  Zayn kisses him slowly but with too much passion for someone who’s getting married in two weeks. Harry kisses him back because he wants nothing more. Wants Zayn all to himself.

“I could be so good to you,” he whispers. He rests his forehead against Zayn’s but his words are so quiet he’s not sure Zayn heard him at all.

He’s been jealous of Perrie since their engagement and he feels like he’s got every reason to be. He'd known him longer. She gets all of Zayn and doesn’t even treat him right; everyone knows she doesn't treat him right. Zayn's just too hung up on her to notice. She doesn’t know how lucky she is.

Without so much as another word, Harry pulls back and gets in his car. He keeps his head down as he starts the engine and drives off before any more damage can be done. The last thing he needs is two heart attacks in one day.

 

He does damage control as soon as he gets home and baby proofs everything and anything. He’s managed to actually skim through the pamphlets this time and gets a hold of the things he needs: covers for outlets, padded bumpers for sharp corners, like the square coffee table in his living room that makes him cringe whenever the little girl gets near it, a gate for the stairs. When everything is to his liking, he gives the house one more look over before falling back on the couch with a sigh. Sage sits next to him chewing on a toy. He wonders if this is how all first time parents act. He grabs Sage’s fat fingers in his hand and runs his thumb over her tiny fingernails. He promises to be better, for her. He knows he can give her a good life even if the start was a little rocky.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

A week later, Zayn is dressed for his rehearsal dinner in his custom-made suit and his hair freshly shaven. He can’t remember the last time his hair was like this. He checks himself out in the mirror and runs his finger over his eyebrow out of nervous habit.

Zayn doesn’t know when he started to fall out of love with Perrie. He figured it happened when he became more in love with the memories than with the girl that stood in front of him. She was never home at the same time he was and they argued constantly whenever they were. Even the intimacy between them fizzled until one day, doing anything more than kissing her was like a chore. It got worse when he realized she doesn't even close her eyes to kiss him anymore; clearly he became a chore to her as well.

He thought that maybe it was because of when she caught him with Harry that one time but looking back on it, their relationship wasn’t much better before that night either. It was always convenient but never passionate. They didn’t push each other or challenge each other, they were just together. It’s probably why he finds such solace with Harry.

Harry’s arms are more comforting than Perrie’s have ever been.

 

He fidgets in the car as he drives to the venue. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous other than the fact he hasn’t seen Perrie in weeks and the only communication they attempt is less than 140 characters.

He’s adding it all up to realize he shouldn’t be marrying this girl; not when he feels like he’s driving to his own execution instead of a happy event.

Harry’s on his mind too but that’s no surprise. The boy he's always had a thing for but who can't commit to anything to save his life.

But then he starts to think about all the stuff Harry said to him, once when they were in bed and then again in the hospital car park. How he would change and that he wanted to be good for him. Zayn has never been big on chances but he really does think Harry might be worth taking one for. Harry, who makes him laugh when there's nothing to laugh about; Harry who has the ability to work irrelevant stories into any conversation, Harry who is so different and spontaneous and open to what the world has to give him.

He’s aware that he’s started taking the long way to the venue just to give himself a little more time. The fact of the matter is, Zayn would choose Harry. He knows he could be with Perrie and they’d find a way to be almost happy, but he’d be living a lie; she would be too. He would always find a way back to the Cheshire boy with curly hair and dimples in his cheeks.

The first positive thought he’s had about Perrie in weeks is that she doesn’t deserve to be put through that and neither does he.

He’s always known it, the way he feels for Harry. Even when he tried to push the feelings away. He’s always gravitated to him more than he had the other lads. He always knew Liam would talk sense into him, Louis would fuck around and get into mischief with him, Niall was like his little brother who randomly collected condoms with him but Harry; Harry was his anchor when it came down to it. Being with Harry always feels like coming home and he’s not sure why it took so long to get that. Maybe it would have been easier if Perrie was more like Harry. If she cared as much as he did; if she tried as hard as he had.

But even then, Zayn probably still wouldn't be happy. Because nothing's better than the original.

He doesn’t feel bad when he turns and drives in the opposite direction of his rehearsal dinner, especially when he gets a call that Perrie hasn’t shown up yet and that people are getting worried. He wonders if she even considered coming or if she knew all along, like him, that they weren’t meant to be forever.

 

Zayn hears Chris Isaak playing before he even knocks on the door. Harry had mentioned something about giving Sage a musical education. It takes a minute for him to answer but when he does, Zayn notices he has wet, soapy hands and a dish towel over his shoulder. Zayn smiles. Not the kind that meets his eyes and makes them crinkle, but the forced, nervous kind.

Harry seems to zone out for a second, staring over Zayn’s head and he doesn’t understand why until he remember he’s shaved it all off.

“Come in,” Harry says, pulling the door further open. If he remembers tonight is Zayn’s rehearsal dinner or if he’s confused about the suit, he doesn’t mention it.

Zayn finds Sage in the living room while Harry goes back in the kitchen. He’s thankful to have a minute to think about all the things he wants to get off his chest, that he wants to tell Harry.

Zayn watches Sage move around in her walker, grinning up at him as she does. It looks familiar like it might have belonged to Lux or Brooklyn at one point.

"Good job babe! All by yourself.” Harry says from behind him before joining Zayn on the couch.

They’ve done the most intimate things with each other and shared secrets they wouldn’t dare utter to anyone else but now, they feel more like strangers than two people who’ve known each other for years.

Zayn, being the one who showed up out of the blue decides to speak first, "Heard you were taking a break?"

"Who told you that?” It comes off defensive though Harry probably didn’t mean it that way.

"There's a rumor going around at Modest."

Harry rolls his eyes, sits back and starts explaining. He says that he’s skipping out on the tour but that he'll still write and record for the next album. “Just wanna be here for the baby. Don't wanna miss too much." Harry smiles and his eyes shine with it. It's intoxicating. Zayn notices the bags under his eyes, bags that weren’t there before. He smiles too, mostly at the thought of Harry not getting enough sleep because he’s doing a nighttime feeding. At the idea of Harry owning up to his commitments.

"S'not gonna be the same without you." Zayn admits truthfully. His brain is going haywire, actually. He has no idea how they’re going to function without Harry strutting down the runway and winding up the crowd.

Harry laughs that off. "You'll be fine. Fans can do without my awkward sexual dancing for a few months."

The happiness fades back into awkwardness as they sit there.

Harry picks up Sage and Zayn knows it’s because he needs something to do with his hands and she’ll make for a nice distraction. He swears he knows Harry’s body and his mannerisms better than he does his own.

“Pretty sure she’s teething on your shirt.” Zayn tells him through a stifled laugh. Harry takes his shirt out of her mouth and replaces it with a dinosaur toy instead. It's only then that he sees the baby is wearing the same print as Harry; matching YSL outfits. Custom made probably. The tension in the air breaks when Harry claims it's because she has expensive taste.

Zayn laughs at that but it sounds fake to his ears when he does; at the very least he knows Harry will appreciate the effort. He can see it already, a new wardrobe for Sage to match everything Harry owns. From the button-up shirts to the accessories.

Harry gets up and heads for the door. "We're still cool, even if I take some time. We still work together, yeah? It'll be good."

Zayn doesn’t follow suit and hesitates. He accepts that but he knows things probably won't be the same. Not after everything Harry's told him and not after the feelings he's dealing with himself.

“You coming, or what?” Harry looks back at him, noticing Zayn’s hesitation.

Zayn gets up immediately. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Echoes of Harry’s words are in his head all at once, _I can be good for you,_ and the way Harry is giving up everything for the baby, owning up to his responsibilities. And Zayn is finally supposed to be doing what he wants. He broke off his own engagement with thoughts of Harry fresh on his mind and his taste only faintly on his lips. He doesn’t know what to do or what to say as he stands there, hands limp at his sides. All he really knows is that he’s waited for years for Harry to be like this; he’s waited so long he thought he’d given up on it.

It’s all too much for Zayn to process and Harry is standing there looking so lovely with his dark curls and big green eyes and a smirk wry with amusement.

He’s chewing gum the way he always does, like he’s giving the gum a tongue bath to remember. Zayn shouldn’t be so endeared by his gum chewing techniques but, fuck, he’s hooked on everything Harry does. Harry bites his lips and Zayn only notices then that it’s because he’s staring.

“What’s going on?” There’s a smile behind Harry’s words but his eyebrows pull together as his head tilts to the side.

Zayn gives a small shake of his head as he walks closer. “I called off the wedding, ya know? M’ supposed to be at my rehearsal dinner right now but I couldn’t go through with it.”

Harry swallows but doesn’t say anything. Zayn can see the worried panic in his eyes and can hear the sharp breath of air he takes.

Zayn licks his bottom lip, “I should be planning my wedding but I’m standing here with you instead.” He says matter-of-factly.

Harry shifts a bit uncertainly on his feet but before he can respond, Zayn is closing the space between them. He grabs the collar of Harry’s shirt and tugs it to him, kissing him so hard his own lips sting with it, the gum that was in Harry’s mouth lost somewhere between them.

Zayn’s eyes are closed when he pulls back, chewing on gum that wasn't there before. He shakes his head and a smile plays at the corner of his lips. “I gave it all up for you.” He mumbles and kisses him again, slower, sweeter.

Zayn can feel Harry kiss back. His heart gives in a bit when he feels arms wrapping low around his waist and pulling him in. And it’s impossible to explain because only Harry can make his heart race like this. Can give him goosebumps when it's not cold out.

Zayn pushes him back towards the stairs, he needs to get him laid out on a mattress as soon as possible.

“Baby.” Harry rasps when Zayn bites at his neck.

Zayn hums in agreement, loving the sound of a good pet name.

Harry pulls away with a smile nudging his head towards where Sage is passed out on the couch. “No. My baby.”

Zayn’s never been so happy to see a sleeping child in his life. “Okay, I’ll put her down but you,” he bites his lip, “I want you naked on the bed when I’m done.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry salutes him as he scrambles up the stairs, two by two, slipping on one before righting himself to keep going.

Zayn shakes his head because he might be in love with an idiot.

 

Zayn is the first to wake up just minutes before nine the next morning. It's way too bright in the bedroom. The curtains definitely not doing their rightful job because unfortunately, it's the perfect day to sleep in.

He’s lost at first, immediately recognizing that this is not his room. His eyes always need a moment to adjust and this morning is no different. His eyes find the gangly figure fast asleep at the other end of the bed. He's shocked that he's woken for the first time without Harry's limbs wrapped around him and he realizes that he doesn't really like it.

Harry's hair is all knotted and he’s snoring softly. Zayn finds it more and more adorable the more he wakes up to it. He scoots over and grabs at Harry's waist and pulls him close, kissing at the purple and blue marks on his neck. He faintly smells of shampoo and baby formula.

Harry stirs and scrunches his face sourly, too tired to be messed with.

Zayn pokes at Harry's cheek where his dimple would normally be, "Forgot my toothbrush babe. Have any extras?"

"No. Just use mine." Harry whispers out in a scraggly voice, shuffling to his side to avoid Zayn's lips but incessantly nudging his arse back against him.

It makes him laugh as he kisses Harry’s shoulder and climbs out of bed. Before he even stands, he hears the muffled whining of what sounds like the beginning of crying from the baby monitor on Harry's bedside table; something he’s never seen before. It’s a familiar tune now, her crying.

Harry hears it too and immediately throws the covers off without so much as a groan.

"I'll get her. Don't worry ‘bout it," Zayn leans over to kiss Harry’s forehead as he flops back down onto his pillow. He laughs when he hears Harry mumble happily, pulling the sheets back over his shoulders.

Zayn comes back with Sage all cleaned up and fed, to see Harry just setting his phone on the nightstand. He has a sleepy grin and his hair is still all over the place, but he reaches out his arms towards them; Zayn figures to Sage mostly.  
Zayn crosses the room and hands the baby over, his heart warming when Harry coos his 'good mornings' and 'hello beautifuls,’ his voice low and sleepy.

Zayn makes his way to his side of the bed, getting back between the sheets. Harry sets Sage between them and Zayn thinks this is the quietest Harry’s house has ever been.

“You remember what today is, right, babe?” Zayn asks when Harry pretends to eat Sage’s hand.  
“Of course I do,” Harry says right before laughing when Sage starts biting his finger.

Of course he does. He’s already listened to Harry as he prepared a speech for the social worker who is visiting and deciding if Sage needs to go into foster care or if Harry can handle it. Harry wrote it late into the night on four different notecards and read it to Zayn and Sage as they sat on the bed. He particularly likes the part where Harry says that beyond a shadow of a doubt, he wants to keep Sage because he knows he can give her the best life, not to mention he’s fallen madly in love with her during the short few weeks he’s had her. Zayn’s sure whoever the social worker may be, will notice the difference in Harry’s attitude and Zayn will vouch for him when he starts to tell them about his recent plans with the band. Zayn knows Harry is going to smash it. He’s going to be able to prove the people who doubted him wrong. Zayn knows he’s going to be a good father even if he still puts Sage’s diaper on backwards sometimes. Another part of Harry’s speech Zayn likes is one Harry didn’t even recognize until Zayn pointed it out to him. For the first time, he heard Harry say daughter-- _his daughter._ It’s not a done deal that the social worker will let Harry keep the baby but Zayn did a lot of research on the statistics of similar cases and he thinks the odds are good.

The baby tugs on Zayn’s chain, but he can’t be bothered when he sees the distant look on Harry’s face. “You okay?”

“Nervous.” He whispers, like Sage will know why if he says it out loud.

Zayn smiles softly and just grabs his hand. He can’t tell Harry what will happen today, or tomorrow for that matter; just that he’s going to be there for him and Sage, every step of the way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really like to thank my beta. Thanks for being super patient and tolerant towards me. It meant a lot.


End file.
